Fall Apart
by Fade131
Summary: Tohma seemed too broken for her to push him away.  Originally posted 7.24.2006


Maybe he was too drunk that night, or maybe he had just finally realized how useless it was to keep lying to her - god, she wasn't _stupid_, she'd figure it out herself anyways, so what was the point in keeping it from her? So he told her everything, from New York and Eiri to now and Ryuichi and Sakano and that little voice in the back of his mind that kept telling him he was failing, he was screwing everything up and soon nothing would be able to fix it, no matter how hard he tried.

Mika took it pretty well, considering that it meant hearing her husband tell her he wasn't in love with her, never _really _had been, because he was in love with someone else, something else. Pain, maybe. He seemed to attract it without noticing. But then, he did care about her. He wouldn't abandon her just because he'd made these mistakes. He'd take care of her, as long as she wanted him to.

And just then, Tohma seemed too broken for her to push him away.

_I never knew  
>I never knew that everything was falling through<br>That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue  
>To turn and run when all I needed was the truth<br>But that's how it's got to be  
>It's coming down to nothing more than apathy<br>I'd rather run the other way than stay and see  
>The smoke and who's still standing when it clears and...<em>

The phone call was like a shock of cold water, and he fled his office in an instant. It seemed oddly funny how empty the building was then - it was one o'clock in the morning - but he wished there was someone there anyway. They might've offered to come with him, and then he wouldn't have had to bear sitting in the awful, sterile waiting room while the doctor insisted that Mika would be fine, it was the baby they were concerned with.

When they finally told him he could go see her, she was awake, they didn't tell him the bad news. Tohma supposed they were afraid of his reaction, or maybe it was just because he didn't ask them, but they let her tell him anyway that the baby hadn't survived the fall she'd taken down the stairs. She did it with blank eyes, and after she'd told him she wouldn't look at him, wouldn't speak to him. The nurses said to give her some time, she'd had an awful shock, most women who experience a miscarriage were depressed and uncommunicative for a while afterward.

He knew it was more than that.

_Everyone knows I'm in  
>Over my head<br>Over my head  
>With eight seconds left in overtime<br>She's on your mind  
>She's on your mind<em>

It was weeks before she'd even look at him again. He knew that it would be like this, that somehow this was really his fault and she'd make him pay for it if she could. He'd tried to talk to her, to reason with her, to ask her if she still did want to have a child, they could. But she knew it already, and she didn't want this, not with him, not from him. She wanted out of this marriage, away from this place, back home where it didn't remind her of what she could've had.

Tohma couldn't argue with her, couldn't try to convince her not to, couldn't say a word. After all, he'd driven it to this, hadn't he? He'd been lying and cheating and now his life was falling apart around him and he deserved it, no matter what anyone said. He could be as good a person as he wanted but it wouldn't change the fact that he'd done this, he'd broken everything, and he had no right to ask for the chance to fix it.

She'd packed her things and left before he could say a word, anyway.

_Let's rearrange  
>I wish you were a stranger I could disengage<br>Just say that we agree and then never change  
>Soften a bit until we all just get along<br>But that's disregard  
>You find another friend and you discard<br>As you lose the argument in a cable car  
>Hanging above as the canyon comes between and...<em>

Tohma got the divorce papers in the mail, and they sat on his desk for at least a week before she started calling him up and leaving messages with his secretary threatening to take him to court. He knew she didn't meant it - she just had to ask and he'd give her what she wanted, but all she'd asked for were the papers, and he couldn't bring himself to sign them. It was giving up, giving in that this just wasn't meant to be, admitting that he'd ruined it.

He was fighting a losing war with himself, to call her, or go see her, or something - anything to tell her he was sorry, he hadn't meant to break her heart, not ever. But he didn't think she'd listen, or believe him if she did. He wouldn't have believed himself, after all the lies he'd told, so why should she?

He mailed back the papers, signed in all the right spots, and his marriage was officially over.

_Everyone knows I'm in  
>Over my head<br>Over my head  
>With eight seconds left in overtime<br>She's on your mind  
>She's on...<em>

That afternoon, sitting in his office, his work suddenly seemed so absurdly unimportant next to the wreck he called his life. It wasn't getting any better, either. He and Ryu had been discussing having the band get back together, but he knew it wasn't going to work. He'd changed a lot, and Ryu just didn't trust him anymore. How could their music be beautiful if they couldn't work together, couldn't talk for more than a few minutes without getting into an argument?

There were too many emotions running through him, too many things happening, too much was falling apart. He swept everything off his desk, frowning at the sound of shattering glass from the pictures that had been on the corner, the crack of snapping plastic as the phone hit the floor, watching as his papers scattered everywhere.

Going over to the cabinet next to the sofa, he found a glass and a bottle of scotch.

_And suddenly I become a part of your past  
>I'm becoming the part that don't last<br>I'm losing you and its effortless  
>Without a sound we lose sight of the ground<br>In the throw around  
>Never thought that you wanted to bring it down<br>I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves_

He was sprawled across the coach with a glass - his third, or was it his fourth? - when Sakano rushed in, glasses slightly askew, and blinked surprisedly at the mess that was his office. Tohma smirked bitterly at the look on his manager's face, sipping his drink, waiting for the other to say something. Nothing happened for a few minutes as Sakano surveyed the scattered, crumpled papers and broken glass that littered the carpet, and his boss on the sofa, slightly disheveled and probably at least a little drunk.

He didn't say anything at all, in the end. Tohma watched nonchalantly as Sakano sat down next to him and took the glass of scotch away, putting it on a side table, out of reach. He didn't move as the other man hesitantly touched his shoulder, but then the pity and the worry in his eyes was far too much and Tohma was clinging to him and sobbing and he hated himself for it but he couldn't stop. And this time it was Sakano who listened as he told him everything, everything he'd told Mika, everything he'd told Ryuichi, everything he'd kept to himself since the night the phone call came.

It was the press of warm lips that stopped his words and his tears and then nothing mattered anymore, because maybe he could have this.

_Everyone knows  
>She's on your mind<em>


End file.
